


Under Night Sky

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [112]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Dragon!Caroline, F/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, klarolineauweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: Caroline's restlessness leads her deep into the woods. Spying a pair of unfamiliar tracks she investigates because a werewolf shouldn't be anywhere near her usual haunts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Under Night Sky**

**(Prompt: Au, hybrid!Klaus meets dragon!caroline in Aspen, she hates the cold, bed sharing happens. I didn't quite get to the bed sharing though!)**

There were few things that annoyed Caroline more than tourists. Aspen, her current home base, was lousy with them this time of year. They polluted the restaurants, the bars, every single shop in town. She supposed it was good for the economy and she didn't begrudge her neighbors the profits. That didn't stop her from being irritated by it. Even worse was that they were all over _her_ mountain. Humans were everywhere, from sunrise to sunset – with a few stragglers who liked skiing in the dark - severely limiting her opportunities to change and stretch her wings.

She was constantly restless, unable to focus, her skin itchy and tight. Even now, curled up in her favorite chair by a fire with a truly excellent smutty novel, she's cranky. The recent dip in temperature and increase in frigid winds only shortened her already fraying temper.

Seriously, the next drunk frat boy who tossed her a terrible line and expected his stunning wit to earn him a VIP pass into her pants might just get eaten.

Caroline took comfort in the fact that the busy season was almost over. She'd have a couple months to breathe before the summer rush began. That one was slightly more tolerable because at least she wasn't cold in addition to being crowded.

She tosses her book aside in frustration, having realized that she's been reading the same page over and over again. She'd just been getting to the good stuff and it deserved her full attention. A quick glance out the window shows the sun just beginning to set, faint wisps or pink and orange streaking the sky. She usually makes herself wait until it's fully dark before setting out but maybe, just this _one_ time, it won't hurt to go a little early. It was a record low for February, surely most of the tourists had called it an early day, were safely tucked into lodges and cabins with hot chocolate or wine.

She'll just drive slowly, Caroline decides, standing up and stretching out her stiff limbs. By the time she gets to her spot it'll be fine. Deserted and private, just her and the night sky.

Later, Caroline will wonder if the decision to break her routine was among the best, or one of the worst, she's made in her very long life.

* * *

It's not until she's transformed, endured the shift of muscle and bone – painful but endlessly freeing – that Caroline notices something's amiss. In her human form her senses are slightly better than average but nothing compared to her enhanced sight and smell that comes when she's let her dragon loose.

Her clearing, deep in a forest, further than anyone but the odd park ranger bothers to go, has been visited recently. She'd seen the tracks, noted that there must be a particularly large wolf in the vicinity, had been vaguely excited at the possibilities of a hunt. Intent on tracking it she sets her nose to the prints, lets out a startled huff as she takes it in. Another scent mingles with the wolf's, not one Caroline knows but there _is_ something familiar about it.

She's met many werewolves, knew which bits of the legends floating were fact and what was fiction. Transforming at will, a solid week out from the full moon, wasn't something they could do. And yet, there was that distinct scent, proof that one had managed the feat.

How very interesting.

Caroline had never been very good at minding her own business.

As much as she longs to push off, to break the treeline and soar until she's exhausted, the mystery of the tracks nag at her. It's a lone wolf, she knows, incapable of being even a hint of a threat to her. She _could_ let it be, make some calls later to friends who are more in the loop to satisfy her curiosity and see if some new kind of werewolf exists out in the world.

That would probably be the prudent choice.

But prudence was so _boring_ and it's been forever since anything has happened to break up the monotony of Caroline's days. It's been months of hanging out in her apartment, only leaving it when she needed something, or for her solitary flights around the mountains.

She's following the paw prints before she can talk herself out of it.

Caroline's not as stealthy as she wants to be, the werewolf is large in comparison with actual wolves but significantly smaller than she is so can't help disturbing the underbrush around her, sending leaves rustling and snapping branches. She considers doubling back to the clearing and the clothes she's stashed, following on foot. Nixes the idea quickly. Transforming took several minutes and her human skin was far more vulnerable than her dragon's scales. She'd heal if the werewolf decided to attack but she'd really rather avoid being bitten and scratched until she could shift and fight back and make the wolf regret attempting to hurt her.

A little burst of fire or one good chomp would do the trick nicely.

The scent's beginning to get stronger and Caroline knows she's getting closer. Anticipation is humming through her and when she pushes through a dense wall of trees and splashes into an icy stream she lets out a guttural sound of annoyance, making a quick leap to clear the water.

Only to be startled by an amused _human_ laugh.

How had she missed the naked man?!

"Finally," he drawls, unbending from the crouch he'd been in. "I've been waiting for you to catch up, sweetheart."

Huh. Not the usual reaction one had, supernatural or not, to coming upon a ten foot winged lizard. Dragons were rare, knowledge of the species closely guarded, and a werewolf shouldn't have the slightest clue that things like her existed.

Maybe, Caroline thinks, tensing in readiness to take off, she should have been more cautious. The man remains unnaturally still, the slightly curled ends of his hair dripping as he studies her. The droplets hit his shoulders and collarbone before slipping lower, trickling down pale skin pulled taut over lean muscles.

She lets her eyes linger on him, feels no shame in doing so. He's not the slightest bit self-conscious, makes no move to hide any of the _very_ impressive parts of his body from her gaze.

Caroline can't help but appreciate his lack of modesty, mentally berates herself for it. Maybe she should have taken one of the frat boy's offers. Surely, if they didn't talk, she could make do and would be less inclined to appreciatively ogle an unknown, if attractive, entity?

Her attention shifts back to his face when he raises his hands slowly, palms up in what Caroline's certain is feigned supplication. Her instincts are sharp, well-honed and never wrong. Her gut's been the only thing that's kept her alive a time or two or twelve over the centuries. She knows when to fight, only does it when she's sure she can win. Faced with the too knowing golden eyes of this stranger she's no longer sure she'd come out on top if things get bloody.

A small part of her is intrigued. Still she eases back a step, takes a deep breath and lets out a puff of air that carries a hint of a threat, the smallest bit of smoke and flame. Not close enough to him to do any damage, she merely singes a nearby bush.

The werewolf's brows rise, his full lips tipping up into a smile, "Ah, you're exactly as advertised. I'm suitably impressed though I assure you I mean you no harm."

This time her snort is distinctly disbelieving and he has no trouble parsing her meaning. He nods a concession, "Yes, I admit that luring you deep into the woods looks suspect. Would it help if I mentioned your friend Bonnie sent me your way?"

It's a surprise but it does the trick. Caroline relaxes slightly though she maintains the distance between them. She's known the Bennett witches for a very long time, Bonnie, the newest of the line, was a good friend, bright, loyal and more powerful than she knew. Caroline was quite fond of her, trusted her more than most people.

He drifts a step closer, palms still slightly raised, his tone warm and beseeching. "Why don't you change back, love? So we can make introductions properly. Discuss a bit of mutually beneficial business."

That earns another noise, a swift denial and she takes her own step away. Did he think she was an idiot? Caroline was tough to kill but that hadn't stopped people from trying over the years. Worse were the idiots who thought to imprison her, the ones who knew how valuable her blood and scales and teeth were. They'd always attempted to strike when she was in her human body, when her strength and speed were manageable, her claws not nearly as sharp.

She reaches out with one, the tip lethally pointed and more than capable of gutting him, and scrawls out a symbol in the snow. It's the logo of a bar in town and if he's not smart enough to figure it out Caroline doubts any business he pitches will be worth her time. He studies it for a second before nodding genially, "As the lady wishes. Tomorrow? Say, 8 o'clock?"

Caroline jerks her head in acknowledgement, stretching her wings and preparing to push off. His eyes light up, turning molten and hot, a greedy fascination clear as they take her in. "Fascinating," he murmurs. "I'll be there."

She's in the air before he can say anything else, high above the tree line with only a few powerful flutters of her wings. He remains still, getting smaller and smaller but Caroline somehow still feels his gaze. She does her very best to ignore the warmth building in her. Her gut told her that those eyes of his were dangerous, that skipping town might be her best option. That he was more than he appeared. She reaches for reason, for cold rationality, but finds it hard to grasp.

She curses her restlessness, her often over active imagination. She wants to know what color his eyes turn when his wolf's safely tucked away, if the impact of them on her body is the same.

Tomorrow she'll find out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Under Night Sky (Part Two)**

Caroline has always been a very punctual person, even before watches and cell phones made the time easily accessible. It's a quarter to seven when she walks into the bar, shaking off a dusting of snow and stripping of her outer garments before they could get wet.

Damp cold was the  _worst_.

This time showing up this early had nothing to do with a desire to be on time. It has little to do with politeness; she's not worried about making a good impression on the peculiar werewolf she'd encountered on the mountain last night.

No, this is strategy.

She'd picked the meeting's location specifically, had known that she could arrange the variables to her advantage. She doesn't go out much during the high seasons but when the tourists leave and Aspen slows the waitresses and bartenders are always grateful for Caroline's generous tips. She weaves through the crowds, basking in the warmth of the room. It's packed with bodies and lit by numerous fireplaces and Caroline might even be able to take off her chunky knit cardigan.

She makes a beeline to the bar. The ambience is purposefully low-key – comfy seating and music that didn't overwhelm conversations. Pairs and small groups of humans are clustered in cozy seating groups and perched on stools around high tables. Squeezing in to the pack around the bar she looks around for someone she knows.

The bartender who meets her eyes grins in recognition and welcome and she returns it. He's one of Caroline's favorites, fun to flirt with, easy on the eyes, and a generous pourer. He even manages to be gracious when he loses at darts. She's often wondered what had brought him to Aspen but Enzo has never offered an explanation and Caroline had never pressed. She didn't need to give him a reason to get curious about her background. He ignores several people who had been waiting (to audible grumbling), to greet her. "Long time, no see! What'll you have?"

"The hot chocolate. With a shot of bourbon and extra whipped cream. And I need a favor."

He leans closer, resting his forearms on the bar. "Color me intrigued, Gorgeous."

"I have an… associate meeting me here at 8. I need a spot that's public but where we won't be disturbing anyone, if you know what I mean."

"Associate," Enzo repeats slowly. "I thought you were a writer."

"Can writers not have associates?"

"Can't say I know a lot of writers. But, if I were to give it some thought, I'd wonder why the sort of associates a writer had would need the set up you're suggesting."

"Proprietary info," Caroline lies. "Big plot twists, that sort of thing."

Enzo's expression makes it obvious he doesn't believe her but he pushes back from the bar. "If you say so. But you'll shout if you need me, yeah?"

Caroline fights a smile that would surely be indulgent. It was cute that Enzo thought she needed protection. "I can handle myself, but thanks."

He taps the bar and turns away, flipping up the top at the far end and slipping into the crowd. Caroline spins on her stool once she loses sight of him, and she scans the room, re-familiarizing herself with the exits, making a mental list of everything that could be used as a weapon. She's got a knife in her bag, some wolfsbane, but she's learned that sometimes improvisation was a necessary evil.

She feels someone climb on to the stool next to her and lean into her space. She glances quickly in his direction, long enough to take in the gelled hair, Packers jersey and overly cocky smirk before looking away. "No," Caroline clips out. "I'm meeting someone."

He opens his mouth to reply, and Caroline's sure it would have been annoying, but she turns towards him once more, narrowing her eyes and baring her teeth in a sharp smile, and he falters.

Clearly a human with above average self-preservation instincts.

She hears a clink behind her, glances back to see that Enzo's returned and has gotten her drink prepped. She barely notices her hopeful suitor's retreat. Enzo nods towards the back corner. "The chairs by the far fireplace. I think that'll suit your purposes? They were occupied but, with a little persuasion, and an offer of a couple free rounds, their occupants were happy to vacate. I'll put it on your tab, shall I?"

Caroline figured that was a fair trade. "You've totally earned your big fat tip, Enzo. Thanks." She wriggles her fingers in farewell and picks up her drink, wrapping her hands around the mug with a grateful sigh. The seats Enzo had cleared for her are upholstered in buttery leather, warmed by the crackling fire, and Caroline sinks into the one with the best view of the door, curling her legs underneath her. She checks her phone, settles in to wait.

The wolf has forty-three minutes to show up. If he knows what's good for him he won't be late.

When he strolls in the door five minutes before eight – every bit as confident in a flawlessly tailored black coat and jeans as he had been entirely bare – Caroline refuses to allow herself to consider his punctuality a point in his favor. She doesn't move, makes no motion to gain his attention. She watches him curiously, wondering how long it will take him to pick her out in the crowd. According to Bonnie the only thing she'd told the werewolf (or rather been coerced into revealing) was Caroline's name and location. He'd pushed Bon to facilitate an introduction but she had refused.

Brave of her, considering the leverage the wolf had. Bonnie's cousin had a knack for finding trouble and was hopelessly inept at untangling herself from sticky situations. Caroline was going to have to look into a way to ensure her impulsivity would leave Bonnie untouched in the future.

Caroline had gone heavy on her perfume – not offensively so but enough to obscure her scent. The thick crowd will make distinguishing different smells difficult too, no matter how sensitive the wolf's senses.

She had no idea how he could change without the moon, how he'd managed to change back so fast. She's spent a good portion of the day pacing and plotting, had been forced to admit that if he could do that he might have other abilities beyond those of a run of the mill werewolf. She'd fired questions at Bonnie and they'd all been hastily dodged. It was clear that Bonnie knew  _something_  but she'd clammed up when pressed, only urging Caroline to be careful.

Like she wasn't always.

She'd expected him to have to look, to wander around the room in confusion. She'd thought she'd have more time to observe – to take his measure before he found her but she'd been mistaken. His gaze locks on to hers after his first sweep of the room and his slow smile tells Caroline that her efforts at concealment had been pointless.

He's made her. Worrisome, but she hadn't survived this long by being quick to panic.

He doesn't look away from her as he approaches, brushing through the crowd with ease. Caroline lifts her chin, refusing to squirm under the weight of his gaze. She doesn't stand when he reaches her and he helps himself to the chair adjacent to hers without being prompted. His eyes drop, running over her form without a hint of shame, frank appreciation written plainly across her face.

"My eyes are up here," Caroline tells him blandly, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. She's switched to bourbon on the rocks and though it's her third but Caroline's head is perfectly clear. Getting drunk takes a great deal of effort, a side effect of her physiology and age.

He doesn't mention the fact that she'd done some shameless ogling of his own last night as he makes himself comfortable. The leather creaks as he settles, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee, studying her far too intently. "You'll have to forgive me, love, but I rather expected you'd be… larger. Harsher, somehow."

Caroline offers him a cutting smile, "If I was scaly I wouldn't be all that inconspicuous, would I? Besides, the most dangerous things come in pretty packages."

His eyes glint with amusement, "Touché. I must say I'm a bit upset. I've heard whispers throughout the centuries, of dragon shifters and their value, but I'd always dismissed those tales as too fantastical to be true."

She bristles a bit when he says 'value.' It's a harsh reminder of all those who'd tried to capture her, those that would still come, intent on using pieces of her for their own personal gain. She doesn't let her ire show, maintaining a neutral expression. The second part of his statement was more pressing.

Werewolves were lucky to manage a long human life, the strain of changing every month was hell on them physically and they often died young. They certainly didn't live  _centuries_.

She'd thought his scent off yesterday, Caroline remembers. She'd picked up on a sweetness, a faint tinge of metal, but she hadn't made the connection.

For good reason. Vampires and werewolves did  _not_  mix.

Except Caroline had heard rumors of her own over the years.

Her fingers tighten on her glass as the pieces fall into place and he snatches it out of her hand before it shatters. "Easy," he murmurs. "It seems you're not just a pretty face, hmm?"

She glances longingly at the drink, wishes for the burn that could distract her from how greatly she'd miscalculated. "You're Klaus Mikaelson," she says, thankful she manages the words without a tremble.

She could handle a werewolf and most vampires but the really old ones, the vampires who outstripped her years? They could pose a threat. Klaus was an original, now a hybrid. He could hurt very likely hurt her, even if she shifted. And, if anyone had the resources to hold her, keep her prisoner and harvest bits whenever he pleased, it was him.

No wonder Bonnie had been freaked out. Caroline would need to tread carefully.

"I am," Klaus says, smiling. Pure evil should  _not_  have been given dimples like that. He takes her hand, and lifts it to his lips, "It's a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance, Caroline."

He lingers for a long moment and Caroline holds her breath, sitting stiffly in her chair. His fingertips stroke her palm, "You can relax. I'm just here for a conversation."

She's sure that more than one person had heard similar reassurances shortly before their death. "Yeah, sorry if I'm not super trusting. You're kind of well-known and nothing I've heard about you suggests you'd balk at telling a couple of lies." She tugs her hand back and he releases her instantly. She straightens her spine and folds her hands in her lap. "Now, what do you want? Scales, blood, teeth?"

"Blood. For a spell."

Of course. That's how it usually went.

"What spell?" she expects him to demure since it's really none of her business but Klaus surprises her by offering information freely. "My doppelganger is a vampire and therefore useless. My younger brother has seen fit to inform me that there is another line. I need to find it."

She senses there's more to the tale – the harsh way he grinds out the word 'brother' tells Caroline that there's buckets of family drama there. Her innate nosiness makes her itch to press but she decides to stick the things that will affect her directly. "And my blood will help you do that?"

"According to the witches I've consulted, yes. And since my propensity for violence when displeased is well known I'm banking on them being correct."

"Then why didn't you take it?" Caroline blurts out.

He was capable, he'd had the opportunity last night. He could have taken her by surprise easily – she wouldn't have been expecting the speed and strength he was capable of – and he could have left her bleeding in the snow last night. Or worse, dragged her away to some carefully constructed cage. Last night could have been, as he himself had noted, a neatly set trap.

"I'm sure you know how finicky spells can be, being what you are. Witches are ever so fond of their terms and conditions. I need your blood and I need it willingly given. And I'll need it more than once."

Well,  _that_  changed things. Caroline's tension melted away and she shifts to get more comfortable. It was good to be standing on an even playing field again.

"I've always liked witches," she tells him cheerfully.

"They seem rather fond of you. The Bennett girl was very reluctant to supply your direction despite the motivation I provided."

Caroline's friendly expression drops, her tone hardening. "That'll be my first term. Bonnie, her cousin? They're mine. The Bennett's always have been. You don't use them or threaten them if you want anything from me."

Klaus inclines his head, "I can accommodate that demand."

The ease with which he'd capitulated makes Caroline suspicious so she decides to keep silent and see what his next move is. He seems to choose his words carefully, "The spell is complicated. You'll have to leave here for at least a month."

Not a deal breaker, "I like travelling."

"There are those who'll try to stop me. Who'll go to great lengths to prevent me from making more hybrids. You'll be travelling with me to ensure your safety."

That was a bit concerning. Given how magnetic he was, how susceptible to him she was turning out to be, spending prolonged periods of time with him could be a disaster.

"What would I be getting out of this deal?" Caroline asks. "You're asking me to totally disrupt my life here."

"What do you want? Money? Protection? Name it and it's yours, sweetheart."

Essentially a blank check then. She was sure that there were plenty of people who would kill for one of those signed by Klaus Mikaelson. Caroline didn't know if she was one of them. "I've got money. I've done pretty well protecting myself. It's something dragons have a knack for. I imagine I'm the best lead you have?"

His nod is grudging, the barest incline of his head, confirming Caroline's suspicions. It could take him years, decades even, to track down another like her.  _She_  would have trouble doing it even though she had starting points and leads available. Dragon shifters were secretive out of necessity. "And if I say no?"

His head tips to the side, lips curling slyly, "I suppose I'd have to develop an appreciation for your town. It's a bit cold for my liking but I imagine I could grow to like it well enough while I attempt to convince you to help my cause."

"Convince how?" she presses.

Klaus wets his lower lip and she detects a slight glow of gold around the blue of his irises. "I'd be happy to try any number of methods."

Her body reacts to the gravelly pitch he'd adopted, the muscles in her stomach twitching as a faint flush overtakes her cheeks.

If he could coax that kind of reaction with only a handful of words she was screwed if he really tried to be persuasive.

Caroline clears her throat and reaches for her glass. She tosses back the rest of the liquor in one swallow, ignoring Klaus' satisfied noise of amusement.

Of course  _he_  was amused. Caroline was the one that was thoroughly stuck with him no matter which option she chose.

It was a probably a bad sign that she wasn't that upset about it.


End file.
